Networking
by Risque Tendencies
Summary: Miyagi just wanted to be a better man, but only after being prodded to it. Shinobu simply had a lot of problems, very few of them school-related.
1. Burning The Midnight Oil

******Summary:** Miyagi just wanted to be a better man (but only after being prodded to it). Shinobu simply had a lot of problems, very few of them school-related.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Also, this is un-beta-ed, and though I am fairly meticulous, there could still be the odd grammar issue. I doubt there are spelling errors since that's my niche, and even if it weren't, there is always Spell Check. Apologies.

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**Networking**

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**-.**

_'Baka, you've been staring at that same spot for the past twenty minutes. It isn't about to change any.'_

Miyagi Yoh stirred restlessly in his ergonomic office chair - speaking of which, was not living up to the standard advertised when he had made the purchase. It molded to his strong back just fine but the problem was that it did it too well. The chair gripped his form and kept it positioned in one place, anatomically straight and supported, but he felt rather like he was stuck there when he sat in it, and that fact only made him squirm harder than he would have normally during his fits of distraction.

It was yet another ponderous afternoon in which Miyagi faced the conflict of a full stack of papers in his inbox, and absolutely no will remaining with which to deal with them.

He glanced covertly over his shoulder to the other side of the room, where his assistant's desk stood empty.

It was habit from the many times they did have the pleasure of working together, and for an unknown reason Kamijou seemed perturbed whenever he felt the elder's eyes cross over to where he was, as if he had some sort of sixth sense to pinpoint it with. Because he now instinctively feared the ferocity of the younger professor's retaliation, he had trained himself to be more stealthy in sneaking a peek.

Alas, today none of that mattered. The devil had gone home as soon as he had finished his tasks for the day, leaving behind Miyagi, whose spunk had steadily dissipated the more he found himself without his main source of amusement.

Miyagi had tried to finish off the rest of the grading for the essay he had recently assigned to one of his higher-level courses, but only had been able to muster the drive to sort them out into preliminary piles based on the quality of their content: great, good, passable, in danger, and, lastly, concerning.

He did not enjoy giving out bad marks, but such was the life of a teacher. Usually in most scenarios, at least at this stage, his students were not bad essayists. He had come to know that it was generally one of two reasons why they did not hand in a well-written paper. Either the content had been difficult to pick apart - which would leave the blame at his door as an instructor for not having clarified it properly, or the student had some pressing personal problems to distract their studies.

If a student seemed to be having some troubles that the professor perceived during lecture, or if those problems manifested in a low grade, Miyagi always strived to meet with that student one-on-one, just to see if he couldn't help them back onto the right track. This was far more convenient for him to do now that he could leave the instruction of the introductory courses to Kamijou, and instead focus on his elite, passionate about literature, students.

He truly cared about each of them and their unique paths, and would do everything he could to boost them to success. The professor could not even begin to count the number of times he had stayed on campus late with a frantic student, allaying their fears and providing gentle guidance as they worked through the ruffles in a certain project or assignment. To tell the truth, it was all he lived for, these days.

After doing that much work, he felt properly exhausted. His prospects for other entertainment seemed bleak, so it seemed that no matter what, he would have to resolve himself to the task of pushing through and grading the essays.

Of course though, it would go so much faster if there were two brains instead of one combing them over...

Miyagi whipped out his phone from his slacks pocket, hitting one of the first speed dials. Kamijou probably would not be amused to know that he had him on one of those shortcuts, but it was convenient in those many moments where he needed to quickly track down his subordinate.

To his joy, he did not have to wait for more than a few rings before the man in question picked up.

"Ka~mi~jou," he trilled happily over the phone. Miyagi deigned to leave off his usual appellation of 'my sweet honey', as not to enrage his prickly assistant professor before he had even asked him nicely for something.

"I sincerely hope, for your sake, that this is important," Hiroki replied, his voice guarded by the usual hissing brand of ire he employed to keep his superior at arm's length. The elder fought a chuckle - yet lost - at his guesses as to why his devil might be so ruffled by a call. '_Probably about to get something good from that giant of his - he _did_ speed on out of here earlier like there was a gift waiting ahead for him..._'

"What could be more important than the work we do here?"

"I'm hanging up," Kamijou informed him shortly.

"But there's so much! And it's all... can't you just come by for half of it?"

"NO!"

"Ka-miiiii," he drew out the surname, but ultimately did not reach the second half before he received a rather impassioned, if brief, rant.

"No! Do your own work, Miyagi, that's what you're paid for. I am _home_ for the day, and I have done _all_ that is required of _me_. If you are bored, well... I have a brilliant suggestion, so listen! Why don't you get up off your selfish ass and do something for someone else for once in your goddamn life!" He hung up after that declaration, his tone ringing in Miyagi's ear.

Normally, he would not have taken to heart the raging demon's vitriolic words, but today of all days, they pierced his consciousness through, causing him to tip back into the mold of his office chair, lost for thought.

He, selfish? Was that true?

It was not a thought he wanted to ponder, so instead he turned to another task, rifling through the stacks of essays littering his desks, and beginning with the unpromising ones, thinking to work his way up. To save the best for last. Maybe by the time he reached there, he'd feel cheered once more.

-.

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**.-**

There was a great sigh of relief as Miyagi set down the last paper, filing into into his outbox with a hint of pride. And who said he couldn't really crank the elbow grease when he wanted to?

At any rate, his students would be happy to get their results in so soon - most of them were far too jaded by the professor's slow return rate that this would come as a nice surprise. He himself was glad to finally be rid of the build-up. The work had been looming for the past few days, and now he could relax.

Also, he could now leave the office, having tied up his loose ends, and head on home.

Miyagi did not linger for long, packing up his belongings quickly, revitalized at the impending change of scenery. It was just beginning to hint at darkness outside, a lovely time of day in which he'd relish the walk to his vehicle, and the lack of a staggered commute to deal with. Perhaps everything was truly well with the world after all.

The professor had been strolling just outside the university gate when a voice called out, vying for his attention.

"Ah, Miyagi-kyoujyu, may I have a minute of your time?"

He turned to see one of his colleagues traipsing along behind him to catch up. He recognized the man, Akiyama Wataru, as belonging to the university's social sciences division, teaching a few different courses within that heading. Miyagi did not have a close relationship with him, but they knew each other passing well due to administrative meetings.

The older man soon approached, smiling behind thick-rimmed glasses. He was certainly a lively face among some of the raven-haired man's coworkers, and he had always thought their teaching styles somewhat similar.

"Miyagi-san, I had been meaning to ask you about something. Well, and your assistant, if he were enticed I suppose," the other professor left off, giving the impression that he seriously doubted the second half was a possibility.

Miyagi had to admit that once he knew what it was, he agreed. Kamijou wasn't impossible, but his advisory skills were best suited for his own literature students, not with a bunch of other, younger kids who required general guidance and a kind hand.

"I've just been put at the helm of a group who runs an advice website of sorts. The service is for high school children who have questions about coming to university. That could be a simple as questions about what life is like here, or the expectations they will face, but it could also be for students who need guidance on what department to pursue - they may have trouble knowing what they want. The respondents are all professors and other university faculty from around the country. It's all anonymous, and I was wondering if that might be something you would consent to become a part of? I hear so many good things from students of mine who have been in your classes..."

"Uhm."

"It won't take up too much up of your free time, I promise. You may respond to the messages at your leisure - there's no quota or time limit. Just whenever you are able to, and you're on your computer."

Miyagi pondered the request. It didn't sound bad or anything, the question was did he care to do it?

"Here." Akiyama drew a small card out of his pocket and handed it over to Miyagi, who took it.

"That's the information you'll need if you decide to participate. I really hope that you will consider it, Miyagi-san, I think that you would be a fine addition to our group, and the students could use a man of your caliber lending them advice."

"I thank you for inviting me, Akiyama-san. It may be that I will join you, but that of course, will require some thought. If you'll excuse me...?"

"Of course, of course," the older professor murmured, bowing slightly. "Take your time. Good evening, Miyagi-san."

"As to you, Akiyama-san, a good evening."

The two academics then parted ways, both headed in opposite directions to return home - Miyagi to his car, and Akiyama to the nearest train depot. All along the drive, Miyagi's thoughts were occupied with other things, though he did pay some attention to the proposal made to him. Would it be so troubling to take that responsibility on? One would think the personal satisfaction he could glean would outweigh any nuisance inherent in the work.

Besides, he hated to admit it to himself, but he had really grown so old that he was bored with his life. He had been searching for a hobby for a while now, and though it wasn't the sort of hobby he had thought he'd take up, this was harmless. Better to fill his empty hours by boosting up another person than wallowing in his living room or office, staring at the walls for a distraction.

He was leaning toward a 'yes.'

**-.**

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**.-**

_Hmm._

Just, hmm.

Miyagi had been gazing listlessly into the abyss of his refrigerator for the past few minutes, considering what an analogy it could make to the similar emptiness of his free time when he finally snapped out of the reverie to notice his foolishness. There was nothing edible in there apart from a few beers and a single lonely head of cabbage - he was sure it wasn't enough to make a proper meal out of - so the logical course of action would be to order take-out.

He had nothing against that, but to tell truth it would have been nice if a ready-made meal had been sitting in there for him to graze on when he came home from work. Far less effort, and probably cheaper than ordering food as often as he did. He just did not have the energy nor the inclination, and probably not even the skill to prepare his own meals, though, and so the debate raged on, seven days a week, between his stomach and his good sense.

The elder sighed and drew one of the drinks out of the store, popping off the top and closing the door. If nothing else, this was done right, as the alcohol was perfectly chilled for consumption; the only companion he had for the evening.

For some reason, in his languor, he found that he wasn't so much hungry as moping about his kitchen had become a nightly ritual. He'd peek around to see if anything changed (never had it), feel sorry for himself, and then press on with whatever he could find to occupy his time.

It was late, but not so late, and Miyagi knew that sleep, while passing the night away, would not be healthy for him, or at least, the amount of sleep he'd get if he started now. Whenever he overdid it, he often ended up feeling more tired than he had been before that session. Factor in that article he'd read that claimed excessive sleep was a sign of depression, and well, he wasn't inclined to be hopping into bed just yet.

If he could just do something before resting, some activity, then his conscience would be set at ease.

As if bidden, fingers that had been thrust carelessly into his front pocket alighted upon a crisp rectangle of paper. Comprehension dawned on him, and he brought it out, scanning the print carefully, holding the card about level with the middle of his broad chest.

He tilted his gaze up and away after finishing off the reading, considering the option. The professor drummed the card errantly against his body as he weighed the pros and cons, his drink beginning to chill the palm that held it.

The man made his decision when he took one more good look at his home, the emptiness of it that somehow he knew adding more belongings wouldn't help, and inwardly at himself, a perfect pair for the barrenness in human form. He might have been riding the line of exaggeration on that comparison, but at times it did seem hurtfully true.

He would do it.

With this new determination steeling him, he headed in the direction of his bedroom, only pausing to grab his laptop bag from amongst his work things. He plugged in and found the site quickly, feeling, despite himself, some anticipation at sampling it for the first time. He reminded himself of the joy that he got from helping the students who attended his seminars, and thus he was further convinced.

Miyagi clicked the log-on prompt, shoulders set, and mind resigned. For once in so many years, he was going to have to put in an effort to care at all hours, not just during his work schedule. To be responsible for another person's well-being, even if that well-being was strictly in an academic sense. The age group of the kids he was going to be advising threw him stumbling back into a vat of unbidden nostalgia, recalling a time he had been young and lost, much as they would be.

Though certainly, no one had felt the same burdens as he at that tender age. Being so gut-wrenchingly in love, and summarily having it ripped away from him by a force he could not control... it had broken him, and as much as Miyagi was a jolly man by nature, there were some spaces within him that were not, could not, and most of all, he _would not allow_ to be fixed.

Perhaps this would be a good exercise for him. With any luck, he'd be able to steer a few youngsters in the right direction, and their success would be his joy. It might feel pleasant to be a guiding influence outside of the older students he normally dealt with.

It was rather late for a school night, so he took the liberty of updating a few things on his profile - nothing much outside of his professional qualifications, what subject he taught but not where (as this was supposed to be anonymous), a philosophy of learning, and a small greeting.

He had managed this without too much trouble. Miyagi was more computer-proficient than might appear at first glance, and the layout was spartan and very accessible besides. It was not that he had a predilection for technology, but he was not dense. This was a part of the world he was now living in, and it was none-too-slowly becoming a required skill.

Due to the hour, the professor had been prepared to call it a night and trundle off to his warm bed, but, out of nowhere, a insistent 'ping' noise interrupted his winding down routine.

Miyagi sidled over to the laptop to investigate it, one hand scrolling the mouse to where a pop-up had appeared, indicating he had received a message. His usual laziness gave him another side to consider when he made his decision - read it, or leave off until tomorrow?

He scratched his head with his free hand, ruffling his dark locks unconsciously as he mulled it over. Indeed, it was late, and he would do well to ignore this and sleep, but unwittingly, his curiosity was piqued. He had said that he would give this extracurricular an honest try, so... he chose to click on the script, opening the message for his perusal.

**Shininja: **'_Can I ask you a personal question?_'

It was this one inconsequential phrase that would, in the months following, turn around to bite him in the ass, for it was at the root of so many later frustrations.

Honestly, Miyagi sometimes thought that instead, he should have just walked off to bed. Alas, the smarter part of him knew that taking that different step ultimately wouldn't have saved him from the trouble he found himself in later on.

At least not when that mess involved one very persistent terrorist.

**-.**

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**TO BE CONTINUED.**

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**.-**

**A/N:** Ehehe, I am very excited, as this is my first story for Junjou Romantica. I cannot say if the Egoists or the Terrorists are my favorite couple; I am very fond of them both. An aside - it makes me question my sanity that I was only able to complete this chapter under the influence of 90's pop music. Aqua, to be exact.

I hope that you are enjoying it so far, though I admit this open chapter is _slow_, and I would love to have some reviews (questions/chat/suggestions/corrections etcetera are **welcome**! - For example what should our dear Miyagi's screen-handle be?)


	2. Amongst Friends

**Disclaimer/Note: **

_I own nothing_, at least not JR, the series that has captured my heart. Thank you for the feedback last chapter, everyone. This ended up being **far** longer than I thought it would (even after me moving a lot of things around); blame Shinobu and all his ~feelings~. xD The bad part was, halfway through writing this, I accidentally deleted a whole chunk of the text, about five hundred words, which of course made me flip my wig for a while... UNTIL! I found, to my shaking delight, that I had one of those 'preview' things up on here, from before the deletion, and so then I was able to copy back in the text that I missed. I was ecstatic and ready to take a victory lap. The lap would have come in handy in my A&P lab last night (we were comparing radial pulse, BP, pulse pressure, and MAP "Mean Arterial Pressure" in three different postures - supine, sitting, and after exercise), but I got picked to be the doctor instead of patient that time.

Though, to be honest, our experimental results weren't accurate; I think my partner was nervous so her supine BP registered higher than the sitting, which it shouldn't have been.

ANYWAY... blah blah blah, you don't care about all that junk, so just get a move on and read the chapter. Hehe, enjoy!

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**Networking**

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-.

The rain was drizzling down the large paned windows as Shinobu sat, shoulders hunched forward over his lap, his body sunken into one of the plastic rows of seats overlooking the many runways. 'Home at last,' he thought with an forced air of calm. Within, his heart was thumping urgently, and, every so often, the boy would smile shyly at nothing, remembering that he was one step closer to his happiness.

His cell phone was perched on one of his lean thighs as he scrolled through his contacts list, mentally calculating and recalculating his options.

Today he had made the long flight carrying him back to Japan from Australia, where he had been studying abroad for an intermittent amount of time while finishing out the last of his high school years.

Despite the circumstances that had made him want to flee there in the first place, it was a world that he had enjoyed after a fashion, becoming enveloped in the culture, progressing in his studies, and making friends. This might give one cause to wonder why the teen had chosen to return now, or better yet, why he had no intention of applying to one of the fine, foreign universities that would have been close to the academy he had attended.

The truth was that this had kind of been a last minute decision on his part.

Shinobu had always planned on coming back home at some point, just not right at that second, not so sudden. But there had been an excuse that caused the teen to want to move up his schedule. As soon as he had heard the news, his drive had been ignited, and he had had no reservations in booking his flight and tying up whatever loose ends he had to tie to get home.

His sister was, at this very moment, finalizing a divorce.

Now, one can draw their own conclusions as to why that would make the boy come back, but, in all likelihood, one wouldn't happen upon the correct conclusion. For he was neither going home to comfort her, nor to be a bastion of support for his family throughout the rough time. No, he had his own, very personal reasons for coming home, and they really did not hinge at all on his sibling or his parents' feelings. Rather, they hinged on his own.

You see, waiting there in Tokyo - well perhaps not waiting - at least, he didn't know he should be waiting _yet_, Shinobu allowed, was a person who he very much missed during his time away. This same person was the impetus for his moving in the first place. It all was a bit contradictory, but whoever said that these things began easily? If it had been up to him, the youth would have had his intended long before now, but for a while, his destiny had been placed on hold.

Young as he was, at eighteen, Shinobu had the great good fortune to be in love, and to have definitively found the man he wanted to spend his life with.

The circumstances were, and there was no delicate way of putting it, that his man was the exact man from whom his sister was currently separating.

Initially, one might perceive, 'Wow, there's clearly something amiss in that family.' Secondly, 'Was there an affair going on?' And further yet, 'Isn't there a bit of an age gap there?'

To the boy none of this mattered in the slightest. There would seem to be many obstacles to overcome, as was also true of many classical love epics, but these petty conditions of his did not put a damper on Shinobu's resolve. He was determined as ever to make his confession, and now he had been presented with the perfect opportunity, something that he had not yet achieved in the nearly four years that spanned his sister and brother-in-law's relationship.

That was the whole reason he had ran back home. He planned on finally telling Miyagi that he loved him, and to force the old man take responsibility for making him feel so ardently. He was aware of how it sounded, but Miyagi was the one thing he really wanted in life now. The one thing, the one person who drove him crazy, and pushed him to the limits of his disposition. He had never chased any other goal half as doggedly as he intended on chasing after the elder's heart.

Shinobu had almost finished salving the wounds that he'd incurred when they had wed when the news had reached him that his prospects were open again.

It had taken a long time to wallow and then to mend, but the divorce he interpreted as yet another stroke of fate, the powers that be not wanting him to give up. He had told himself right then and there that there could be no other man for him. No one could even come close to the sense of gravitas he felt when he considered Miyagi, the passionate assurance he felt that at times made him tremble with impatience because they were not already together.

The appetent teen made his plans hastily and thus hadn't _exactly_ given his parents advance notice of his return. His mother and his father were ensconced at a work retreat for the time being, and therefore he couldn't count on them to bring him home. There was always his sister, had he cared to ask, but of course he didn't. Why would he want to ask favors from Risako, ever? She who was very much related to him, but to whom he could not relate.

No matter the year, even before she had gotten in the way of his happiness, the sister and brother had shared an uneasy bond. Perhaps it was their differing natures, their age gap and the time spent apart due to that, or even just primal sibling antagonism, but they had never been more than cordial at best.

And then she had to go and take Miyagi from him. No. She couldn't ever make that up to him; the boy couldn't conceive of a way in which she could. Even if Risako didn't know that he and Miyagi were supposed to be together, the fact of the matter was she had wed his intended and made him inaccessible.

So, in summation, there was no chance in hell of him calling his sister to ask if she could bring him home. That would be the 'everything else failed, it's my last resort' choice. Thus he was going through some other options, old friends from middle school, friends he had met while abroad who had already returned to their native country - really anyone he could think of for whom he possessed contact information. He was on a mission.

Shinobu had already called a few, but many of them were away on vacations, or there was some other valid reason why they couldn't have him come over. He was running low on choices and feeling angry at the notion that he might have to resort to calling the sibling who he detested, because it was starting to look like slim pickings.

In fact, he was down to a single hope left, and so, with an anxious disposition, he rang up the person.

The boy was a year ahead of him and frankly he had never spent much time in his company outside of school, then. Truthfully, he was surprised that he still had Ryuu's number in his cell phone at all.

"Moshi moshi!"

"Am I speaking to Hoshinawa Ryuu-san?"

"Yes, he is I."

Shinobu explained his situation, and inquired politely if he could stay for the evening, and then he would be out of the other young man's hair in the morning.

"Well I'd be delighted if I could put you up for the night. Don't even worry about it. I'll give you my address, so come over. We'll make it a fun night, to catch up."

He accepted the invitation and carefully copied down the street and flat number, telling him that he would be heading that way immediately.

As soon as they broke off the conversation, Shinobu gathered up the luggage he had with him and made his way outside of the airport terminal, aiming to score himself a taxi.

It ended up being about a twenty minute drive through light, post-evening-commute traffic. By the time that he arrived, it was getting to be dark, and so the streetlights had been turned on, casting the small side road his friend lived on in a fluorescent, orange-rimmed glow.

He ascertained from the look of the building that the flat had been maintained on a middle class income, as it neither looked scrappy nor particularly elegant. The youth had been born into a life of privilege, but even with all the money that his family had culled, he did not actually think of it as being that important. He was comfortable, ultimately, with adapting to his surroundings, sometimes disliking so much formality that was inherent to his status; other times, it was soothing to not have to worry about finances.

Many of his friends were the same as Ryuu, and this had not changed while he was overseas - a great portion of his academy senpais had fit the 'student from modest means' mold all too well.

He hoisted his bag over his shoulder and walked up the stairs of the complex, stopping and knocking at an apartment on the second floor.

"Come in, come in!" the tall youth ushered, stepping back so that Shinobu could pass through the narrow doorway. It was about as cramped as he had expected, the walls painted a pale robin's egg blue with some distressed white base molding as the only attempt at architectural elegance in the space.

At his host's suggestion, he dropped off his belongings just inside the door of the nearest room, which looked to be the flat's single bedroom.

The atmosphere put him at ease, and he was sincerely glad that he had been able to visit, almost glad, too, that his folks hadn't been home so he'd had a reason to. If he was going to stay in Japan, and of course he was, for reasons that were obvious to him, it would be good to rekindle a few friendships so that it would be like he'd never left. Because despite his single-mindedness in some matters, Shinobu did enjoy his social life. He would be attending university now, and those were suppose to be the best years of a person's life, outings wise.

Things were seeming optimistic, and he relaxed in a way he didn't even know he needed to. His body had been tense from excitement and the stress of planning his move and his confession, and it must have been affecting him.

The hours wore on, but they revitalized him rather than having an opposite effect.

The two friends ate a simple stew for dinner, sharing a bright conversation about Shinobu's travels and Ryuu's experiences with his first year in university. He was studying chemistry, and that naturally had its pitfalls and incidents, most of which at this early stage were more humorous than harmful.

The older boy also passed the time asking about old classmates, if Shinobu saw much of them, kept in contact, and other such inquiries.

He also jokingly asked if any of the girls had gotten cuter, to which the blond had smirked in reply.

"They aged up," he said, letting Ryuu draw whatever conclusions he would from that. The girls weren't what he was interested in, after all, but there was no reason to be a sourpuss and he figured his friend would enjoy the craftily structured comment.

Also, he had never told any of his peers that he was gay, which might have contributed to his reservedness, and it wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to having tonight.

Just as soon, though, he was surprised.

"Ah, that's good to hear!" The darker haired youth leaned against the island surface, hand cradling his chin, and his tone was jaunty as he pressed on, "So what about the boys? These are the years, after all, when we're starting to grow into our bodies. Has anyone done that... particularly well, eh, Shinobu-san?"

Shinobu had spluttered a little at the question internally, but he was cautious to maintain an amused, unruffled facade.

"So you go that way," he echoed.

"I go any way I please. It's a lot of fun!" Ryuu laughed to himself, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. Shinobu could tell that even though he was chuckling, he was obviously nervous about saying it so boldly. "I apologize if that comes as a shock. I know you rich boys have your sensibilities, and that might not include what I do."

Shinobu shrugged calmly. He felt no need to share his own inclinations despite this development, but he also did not want to leave his companion without some form of answer to the tactful inquiry he'd disguised as a jab.

"You're fine with it?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Cool! Okay... hmm! I know, let's have a drink, and then we can watch a movie. You like action films, don't you? I've got the best one if you do!"

He truly smiled now. "Yes, I like them a lot! But... how did you get the drinks? You're still underage, aren't you, technically?"

"Yes, but my parents bought a little bit for me. Not a lot, but I'm proud of my collection - I have a pretty good variety," Ryuu answered.

Now Shinobu was honestly nonplussed.

"Your parents actually bought alcohol _for you_? Meaning that they're not, you know, against it?" Given how his parents had raised him, this came as a surprise. Was it another difference in classes, the parenting styles?

"Even if they were against it, which they aren't by the way, they know I won't be stupid, that I'll stay in the house when I drink. Come on, it will be just fine, and we won't go overboard and send ourselves into a coma or whatever. You've had alcohol before, haven't you?"

"Of course I have!" he piped up indignantly. What did he take him for, a little kid?

"Well then there's no problem! Sit tight and I'll bring out a few of the better vintages. You like it straight, or do you prefer something mixed?"

"Mixed, thank you," he told him. "I'll let you choose what though, since you're the host."

.-

* * *

-.

Shinobu was watching the screen with half-glazed eyes, eyes darting back and forth as the actors sparred, his fists buried excitedly into the futon that had been layed out on the ground in front of the television.

Movies like this stirred him up. He could always imagine himself in the place of the hero, beating down foes right and left all whilst appearing effortless and cool.

It also didn't hurt that many of the protagonists, heck, even the villains a lot of the time, were cast very handsomely. Tall, with corded, tight muscle as far as the eye could see; strong, rasping voices that radiated power. He almost felt like they were speaking straight to him at times, and in a subtle way, he felt dominated by their on-screen presence.

There were times, noticeably during the up-swings of a fight scene, when the hero was gaining ground or rescuing a love interest that he squirmed, but not uncomfortably, from watching the exertions. His blood would rush, circulating urgently through his young body, and he would often realize, to his irritation, that his mouth was hanging open the whole time, and sometimes there would even be a thin line of saliva that had escaped out from between his parted lips.

He hated it, but couldn't help if he was aroused by the display. Especially when said protagonists were raven-haired with a quiet, dignified air.

Ryuu turned to him once the end credits started flickering down the monitor. An outro song was playing, with loud drums and screeching guitars forming the backdrop. Ryuu actually clicked the volume down a few paces before talking - it was unlikely their conversation would have been audible over the cacophony.

"Enjoy the movie?" he asked, raising a brow playfully. "You were staring pretty intensely throughout most of it."

"I like fighting movies," Shinobu offered, "they're really cool. What, you not like them as much? You're the one who picked it!"

The elder boy leaned in conspiratorially, "Well yeah, I like them, but I don't get all wide-eyed and moony." He chuckled.

"You seemed like you were having a hell of a time, _especially_ during that nude scene. Heh, I don't blame you, it really gets the blood pumping! Except... I got the feeling that you were paying more attention to Daisuke rather than Mai, if you know what I'm nudging at. Is there something you would like to share with me, Takatsuki-san?"

He grinned deliberately, his hand sneaking over to poke the other teen's cheek at the crease of the frown that Shinobu was giving him.

"Actually, if you don't want to say it, that's fine. I can already read you anyway. Just relax."

His stomach started to twist uncomfortably, somehow knowing better than he did in that moment.

He scrambled a little as the larger youth used his strength to turn him face-up. His hands moved to grip at Ryuu's shoulders, his arms stiff and straight, exerting a force to maintain the gap between them. The elder boy's knees were straddling one of his thighs, and one of his hands was holding himself up off the floor, the other resting lightly over Shinobu's outstretched arm.

"Hey!" he objected, narrowing his eyes warningly.

"Settle down. We're friends. I won't do anything I know you don't want."

He wondered darkly if the other boy's perceptions were off on his signals, because this situation was bordering on something he was very uncomfortable with. He was a little upset, but also a little curious, despite his misgivings. He knew he was walking a fine line, but... this was moving too fast for him to work out all the details, his pros and cons. He wished this hadn't been sprung on him, but how could it not have been? He was only getting back in touch with this person after a few hours of being in the country. How could he know that Ryuu would put him into this position, seemingly trying to get Shinobu to let him in?

"Come to think of it, how about this?"

"About what?"

"Let's trade places."

"Look - what are you intending exactly?"

"Just do it. And smile!" Ryuu laughed.

Nervously, he allowed the transition to take place. They relocated so that was propped up overhead, and for a moment neither did anything. The entire time the younger's heart was beating fast, his posture reluctant.

Ryuu's hand wove upward and ruffled the boy's hair sportively, mussing it until it no longer lay correctly in place. He fell silent, but remained on edge, unsure of whether he could trust. It wasn't as if he hadn't ever rough-housed with his friends, but there was this vibe he was getting that influenced his attitude toward what was happening. It didn't feel like one of those other, playful times, but he was trying to give the benefit of the doubt. Even if he really didn't want to.

"You're actually really cute, Shinobu-san."

He felt the hand slip down, cupping his nubile ass with a firm hold, fingers hooking into the pliant flesh with a purposeful strength.

At first, he was too shocked to react to it, his heart filled and soured with disbelief that he really was finding himself in this type of situation. His pulse pounded in his ears as his friend's hand kneaded at his butt, making an impression that went far deeper than the surface. Ryuu shouldn't be touching there. He shouldn't be touching him anywhere, if these were the sorts of intentions he possessed. Wrestling was one thing, but this, this only led to perdition, and lack of experience or no, Shinobu was not stupid.

He understood quite well what his friend wanted from him now, and he blanched at the question of when that decision had been made. Upon sight? After they'd had too much to drink? Or only moments ago, when their lithe bodies had bore up against each other in the playful struggle that had preceded this intrusion?

He flushed with embarrassment, sensing the hand that had been gripping his shoulder work its way down to the same level as that other encroaching hand, this one working in tandem with its partner for a devious turn.

The first spread him open as two fingers from the second pressed against his thinly-clothed entrance, rubbing agonizing circles into the virgin flesh. He could feel the pressure of them, and it was all he could to do think clearly as he prayed they would go no further as he noted tears of shame prick at his stinging eyes.

This was not even close to okay. He could hear Ryuu's breathing getting heavier with each new touch, the darker-haired boy's arousal mounting, and their faces were - god, nearly touching now.

He didn't want this. Didn't want Ryuu. He had been saving himself for a reason, to share his body only with the man that he loved, not some random acquaintance from middle school in the middle of a drunken sleepover.

He was scared, paralyzed. He could not even speak to confront the other boy; he did not what the magic words were that would set this aright again.

The worst part though, the absolute kicker, was that had he found himself in this place a few months ago, or more realistically, now, but without knowledge of his intended's renewed bachelorhood, he might have been tempted to accept it. There was nothing intrinsically wrong with Ryuu. They had had a fun night catching up, and for anyone else, this development might have been a natural step.

But now he had a chance to be with Miyagi. That changed everything. He had thought he would have to wait years for this chance - he had never fully believed the professor and his sister's marriage would last - yet here it was at last. In those earlier days, it wouldn't have been him looking in earnest for someone to love. He couldn't love anyone who wasn't Miyagi. It would have been, as cruel as it probably sounded, more like a replacement. Someone to pass the time with. Or rather, a slew of someones - he couldn't fathom going out with the same person for years based on a lie.

He was able to come right now if he wanted, and he so vehemently did, and say what was in his heart. Shinobu thought he would rather die than to throw that shot away.

"Does that feel nice? We don't have to go all the way, tonight, but this is good, right?"

_'No, because you're not him. I'm sorry, but you can't.'_

Shinobu shoved the other boy flat against the floor with all the strength that he could muster at that critical time, and then shifted his body up, pushing away from the trap of Ryuu's arms until he was kneeling.

He still did not feel remotely safe, not from his friend, and not even from himself as of now. He did not want to falter, not even for a moment, to taint his heart. It might not be a big deal to some people, but to him, it was paramount.

What if he still tried to seduce him, even with his refusal? Shinobu could not take that chance, and yet his mind was wild. He was startled by the turn of events, so instead of taking the obvious route, and hoofing it toward the nearest exit, the spooked teen stood and ran down the hallway, taking refuge in the nearest washroom and bolting the door behind him.

No sooner had he locked himself in than had he slid down the portal to the floor, giving himself the chance to catch his staggered breath.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, trying to settle down, to rationalize. Obviously, this 'solution' was only temporary - he couldn't hide out in a bathroom all night. Well, perhaps he could, but he didn't want to. Should he just give in and call Risako? Maybe...

No!

Shinobu huffed disapprovingly at the turn of thought, frustrated with his lack of strength. Even if he was feeling that threatened, did he want to deal with the awkward situation when his sister asked why he needed to be picked up?

'"Nee-san, I need you to come and get me. I know, it's late, but you need to do this favor for me. Oh, why, you ask? I'm just over at my friend's house, and he kind of tried to finger my ass. It's making me uncomfortable, because I'd really rather save myself for your ex husband, who by the way, I'm in love with... So, how soon can you make it here...?"' The teen blanched a little, and tilted his head back against the wooden surface of the door behind him, resting it there as he ruminated. No way he was making that phone call, though.

Dazedly he did pull out his cell phone though, staring down at the bright screen for inspiration.

What he required was advice.

He pondered the situation some more, and glanced down at the time. He had already known that it was after polite hours, but by that much? How the time had flown. Who would even be awake at this hour? Correction - who would be awake at this hour who could give him reliable advice about his ... unconventional problem?

Shinobu supposed that if he came up with nothing else, he could pretend Ryuu was a girl and ask in that way, but it seemed in-equivalent somehow. If his old senpai had been female, this would have been dealt with already.

At least, Shinobu had never met a girl who was that pushy, and as much as he hated to break out gender stereotypes, guys were generally the aggressors in a pairing, and girls, not so much. It would have been easier to let down a girl and tell her that he wasn't interested. He had done it before, anyway. Though he had never once expressed interest in them, a lot of his female classmates had approached him, ever since middle school, and making polite refusals had become an acquired talent of his.

The teen sighed. He connected to the internet on his phone and stalled for a little on the home page. He had an idea, but was it a good one?

There was this one site he knew that was for advice, but supposedly just for academic advice for people his age. Not for personal questions. At the same time, he had a hard time believing that if he was earnestly asking for assistance, he would be denied.

Shinobu didn't know why it occurred to him that this would help him, but nevertheless he looked up the webpage.

The site was one suggested to him by his father, and Shinobu had only made an account to get the old man off his back about picking a school and what entrance exams he would work towards. Never before had he actually used it, and truthfully he hadn't planned on it. But now, with the mess he found himself in, and the impending disaster he was anticipating when - and he was so certain there wouldn't be an _if_ - Ryuu came knocking, Shinobu was trending towards desperate.

The young man needed someone to listen, to help him through this uncomfortable event, and he would take that support where he could find it. It was possible someone still might be up at this hour, so he flicked through the list of the advisor's screen names, each one sitting next to an icon that was lit up green if that person happened to be online.

As he had already sort of expected, none of them seemed to be available. He had scrolled down almost to the very bottom of the register before, luckily, there was a single green icon staring back at him.

He jumped on the prospect hastily, clicking to go onto the advisor's profile. It took him a while to figure out how to message the person, as the button was only found after reading all the way down the introductory page that gave a blurb about the professor whose account it was.

Shinobu noticed with unwitting warmth that this person taught the same subject as the object of his eternal affections, the fact of which only strengthened his drive to send his queries in to this particular advisor, hoping that it was a sign that things would work out.

His heart thumped erratically as he typed out the question, his mind preoccupied by thoughts of his great love, and how he sorely wished he could feel his strong arms around him right now, that their union had already began in earnest.

**Shininja:** Can I ask you a personal question?

Seconds later he backed it up with a hopefully urgent-sounding, 'I need help right now.'

And, just as he was beginning to let the opening strains of worry claw at him, he gleaned the response he was hoping for.

**Yoghyimai:** Yes. Are you all right? What's happening?

**Shininja:** I'm over at a friend's house, and, out of nowhere, he started coming onto me. And I'm not interested. I tried to play it off, but I'm nervous that he won't take no for an answer. I don't know what to do right now.

******Yoghyimai**: Just explain to your friend, calmly, that you're not interested in what he's trying to offer. Push him away if necessary. If he's not being agreeable, grab your stuff and take a hike. There are probably some youth hostels in that area that you can stay at for the night if all else fails. Better to be outside than stuck in a place where you know you'll come to some harm.

The youth considered this advice.

If he was thinking rationally at the moment, that probably would have been his plan from the get-go. He should have been more clear from the start what he felt, or it wouldn't have got this bad. Now that he had run off though, Ryuu might get the message that he wasn't desired. So when Shinobu told him 'no', he might listen and step back. 'Yeah', the blond thought, 'he doesn't seem like the type that would force...' He let that thought trail off unfinished, before he psyched himself out too much.

He would just go out there now and as the advisor said, explain calmly. Calm. He could do that, right?

But before he could carry out his plan, there was an addendum to the conversation that popped up on his phone.

******Yoghyimai**: Let me know how it turns out. I _will_ wait, so don't forget about me.

Though he did not know this person, Shinobu could not help but feel comforted by the stranger's words. Perhaps that was all he had required in the end, the courage to set Ryuu straight. Having the knowledge that there was someone out there that was concerned for him, that would check up on him steeled the teen's nerves more than any tonic.

He _could_ do this. He would handle it like a man. He was resolved.

The teen deposited his phone into his front pocket and stood, hand only trembling mildly as he gripped the door handle and unlocked it, pulling it open cautiously. If he looked straight down the hall he could see the other boy standing in front of the television, busying himself with putting away the remnants of their night's mess. 'Well,' he convinced himself, 'he doesn't seem suspicious right now.'

He puffed himself up a little, thrusting his shoulders back and standing tall as he retraced his steps back across the flat to the open main room.

Ryuu looked up at his approach, his dark brown eyes widening guiltily and then turning downward at the floor.

Shinobu stopped a few feet in front of him.

"Well?" he instigated, his voice lined with annoyance. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

The other young man shifted on his feet anxiously, setting down the bag he had been throwing the food trash into before straightening up again to give Shinobu his explanation.

"First off, I'm so sorry, Shinobu-san. I really did think you were into me, but that you were sort of shy about it. I liked you, so I was okay with taking the lead. I thought that was normal because maybe you hadn't been with anyone yet, or you didn't think I knew you were gay... or something. I just - there were a lot of thoughts going through my mind, and I picked the reasons that best suited me at the time. I shouldn't have assumed. I should have just asked you outright if you were interested in that sort of a thing."

"I just want you to understand, even if you don't forgive me, that I wouldn't have tried anything if I didn't think all that stuff. I offer you my sincerest apologies, Takatsuki-san." He bowed low as if to emphasize his choice of words, holding the deferential pose for longer than was typical.

Shinobu crossed his arms over his chest. To be honest, he wasn't over it. The touch was too personal, and he had strong reasons for not wanting it. Other people might brush it off, but he found he had a hard time being so forgiving. Still, for now at least, he was sleeping here, so... he could pretend a little until he went home. Maybe in time he'd get over it, maybe not, but he was not interested in a long and drawn out argument.

Actually, he just wanted to be left the hell alone, this time.

"I'm already interested in somebody else. ...You took it too far, but ...if you're sorry... I guess we can put this behind us." He shot him a stern glare for good measure though, just in case the elder boy had some _other_ brilliant ideas that he could see Shinobu was not inviting them to be carried out.

Ryuu looked sheepish, as well he should. He was the one in hot water here.

"Okay... we, uh, should probably just go to sleep then... and in the morning, you can go home, and yeah... that'll be that."

Shinobu nodded. The atmosphere in the living room was beyond awkward right now, and any method of diffusing it, he was more than ready to jump at.

"...Oyasumi nasai."

"Oyasumi nasai."

Ryuu eventually turned and trotted off to his own bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Shinobu stood for a while, still feeling out of sorts. He then remembered the promise he had made, and jumped a little, whipping out his phone and connecting to the correct browser. He found the advisor's page and started composing a new message to relay his fortunate outcome. He genuinely did not think he would have had the nerve without someone else confirming his course of action.

**Shininja:** Everything is okay now, he and I have worked it out. Thanks, your advice really saved me back there.

******Yoghyimai**: I'm glad to hear that it turned out fine. Well, have a better night. Stay safe.

**Shininja:** I will! Good night to you, also.

He clicked to log out after that short appointment, thinking to himself that the site had proved extremely helpful in a pinch, and made a mental note of that aspect in case he ever found himself needing advice again.

He plopped down on the bed set up in the living room, feeling balance return to him as he set his phone aside, sinking down and laying supine on the futon to attempt sleep. All that he could hope was that, in future, no one else made the same stupid 'mistake' as his inebriated companion. And yet, this wasn't the first time, and to his chagrin, it might not even be the last.

There were times that being in love made things so hopelessly difficult. The sooner he was able to confess, the easier things would be - he was certain of it.

In the morning, Shinobu made his excuses and left earlier than he might have at another time, with another person. His parents should be home at last, and there was no chance in hell that he was going to stay where he was, no matter what the situation was. There was still so much left to do, and plans to be made.

Soon, he would confront the enigma that was his fated partner, and with any luck, become, in all ways, his.

.-

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**TO BE CONTINUED.**

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**-.**

**A/N: **And so it begins, and so it begins. I think I managed to stay within the "T" rating on this one, even if there was some fondling going on. And yes, if anyone was wondering, eventually this will shoot up to "M" when the story progresses. Well. Let me know how you liked it this time, spending a chapter with Shinobu. Au revoir, and please leave some reviews! Anyone figure out how I got my super-clever (rolls eyes at myself) screen name for the professor?**  
**

**Cerberus Revised:** And how exciting for me to be reviewed by yourself! I very much admire your work, and I had a sort of Misaki-meets-Ijuuin moment when I saw the message in my email telling me about it.

As to the papers, it is also a feeling I'm acquainted with, though from the student perspective. There will be times where I know I should be doing my coursework, even some of the easier assignments, but I just have... no drive whatsoever, it's been drained from me somehow. Being what I like to call an ambitious person, it's disconcerting. I think that Miyagi is not actually 'lazy' as some characterize him, but rather, like a lot of people, has 'those days.' For him though, the number might be greater at this earlier time, as he does have precious few things to revitalize him in his day-to-day routine.

As for Hiroki, yes, and I'm not that fond of it myself in review. It's not so much 'like to write him that way' in this case, but, 'I have yet to unravel his mysteries.' I find Hiroki_ very_ difficult to characterize, no matter how much I absorb about him in hopes of getting it right. His specifics I find more internal, and even the externals are subtle, and as I'm not giving his perspective, I miss out on a lot of opportunities to write him better. In future though, I'll take another stab, and with luck, hit closer to the mark. Characterization is, above and beyond, my main focus in writing, so next time, Kamijou, next time.

Though of course it's hard to choose, if push came to shove, Miyagi is my favorite of the six main characters, and so I have a special determination to do him justice whilst writing. One of the things I enjoy about him is his different flavor, his emotion, and his complexity... swoon. Of course, his light side will come out to play later, but for now, it is how I would guess it to be.

Ah, Cabbage. Got to have a cheeky wink in there, I do so love them.

I do not think anyone will have to wait too long. For this fic I have felt particularly inspired. I have even written an outline. You might go 'pfft,' but I'm not traditionally one to use an outline, so for me, that's deep.

**Etcetera: **As to the question I received of whether Shinobu knows who he is talking to or not, well, that should be answered now! Though if he did realize, I'm sure we all know what he'd call the coincidence. Hehe. :D


	3. Boiling Point

**Disclaimer / Note:** I really appreciate the feedback I have been getting, and I encourage everyone to write in who reads, even if it's just a word or two. Gives me that get up and go to keep writing. And I respond to each and every one - I have never gone back on my word in this respect. Also, if you have any story questions, I'll answer them (within reason of course! I'm not going to tell you the_ whole_ plot, or anything, hehe)

I still don't own Junjou Romantica. And in a subtle bit of self-promotion, I recently wrote a PWP over in the Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi fandom entitled "Working Out The Kinks." So, if you're interested, and don't mind a non-canon duo (Kisa/Ritsu), hop on over and check it out. It's pretty fun.

_This is dedicated to AZ1087653, who has been a lovely conversation partner lately._

* * *

**Networking**

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-.

He had held onto some notion that it might have changed while he was away, but when he saw it, Shinobu realized that home was ever the same.

The main issue at hand though, was his return itself.

Shinobu was preparing himself for the battalion of questions he was sure would be let loose on him when he came into contact with his parents, who had to be perturbed at what they would consider his indeterminate actions. Several months before, he had all but confirmed that he would continue his studies abroad and attend an Australian university instead of coming back and entering a faculty here. Yet here he was, changing that, and hastily to boot, having bolted for one of the first planes back after his final day of the semester.

His sire especially appreciated a well-defined plan for most things in life, so Shinobu guessed that he'd be the most questioning of any of them. He was to be disappointed in that respect however, and of all things, the conversation took an abrupt turn at the end that soured it completely.

When Shinobu first arrived at the estate, it was after being picked up by his mother in their car - she had been out taking care of a few errands that had been on hold while she accompanied the Dean on his work trip.

Their conversation had been minimal. Mostly she had inquired after his health, how the flight had been, and other mundane topics. As for affections, her brand was placing her hand over her son's during the ride home, which for Shinobu, had been more than he expected. It had been so many years since he had gotten more out of her. They knew each other, but that knowledge didn't extend very deep any more, like it had when he had been a little boy.

He took it for what it was.

Once home, he had been surprised to find the remaining members of their family quartet both there, and in the same room, even. Whether it was because of him, or mere coincidence, he wasn't sure.

"Welcome home."

Shinobu seated himself next to his father, acknowledging the greeting from his sister with the laziest of nods.

Risako busied herself at the stove, not commenting on this lackluster response, culling together the loose tea leaves and dumping them into the special filter in preparation. While she did so, there was not much but silence. They had never been particularly loquacious as a family, and so he wasn't affronted by it. Only a little surprised, considering he had been many miles away just yesterday, and one would think that such a circumstance would invite questions, but according to the current atmosphere - not here.

The kettle was simmering on the burner, and with Risako's method of heating it, it would be many long minutes before the water would be scorching warm and at a full boil. His sister was not one to be efficient in the kitchen, preferring to substitute a lower temperature and a longer cooking time for the norm. With tea that wasn't necessarily a mistake, but when she got her hands on food, then it could be.

He shuddered just remembering the last time he had had to taste her culinary efforts, in the form of pasta. It had been, oh, probably two years since the event but he recalled it. The noodles had been wormy and tasteless, dissipating into a sticky, distasteful texture as you chewed.

Shinobu hadn't ever tried to make the dish himself, in fact, he rarely cooked these days, but he was certain that he could do better. It couldn't be as difficult as she whined it was, after all, could it? Just put together the right ingredients, watch the food while it heated up, and then it was done, plate it.

Or at least, that was his perception. In any case, he was considering practicing some cooking while he had a full kitchen at his disposal. Not that he needed brushing up, of course, but just for the hell of it. He secretly harbored a fantasy that required him to be deft in the ways of food preparation.

He wasn't sure if it was because of his sister's failings in that hemisphere, his own intrinsic desire to please his would-be paramour, or out of pure folly, but he wanted to be the one to take care of Miyagi, to treat him as he ought to have been always. Shinobu wasn't worried about himself, really - he was certain that when they were together, the older man would be nothing but kind to him.

One of the things that he loved about Miyagi was his caring nature. If you watched him long enough, you could see it poke out beneath the serious or playful facets of the older man's personality that he alternated between. He was considerate in the subtlest of ways, and that drove Shinobu to admiration.

Even with a situation so conflicting, where a part of the teen wished that Miyagi had expressed unhappiness or dissatisfaction with his sister's cooking, the man never had. He had always drove right on through with eating, sometimes going so far as to compliment it despite it being obvious that the dish was over - or more often than not, when it was Risako, _under_ - cooked. He never deviated from this practice as far as Shinobu knew. So, even though the collateral was Risako getting an ego boost, the young terrorist took it as a sign of Miyagi's compassion and edited out the rest.

Once assessing the state of things, their mother glided around the counter to assist Risako with the set-up work for the meal, effortlessly falling into the domestic role without as much as a single hiccup.

Shinobu watched and admittedly, envied her. He also realized how he missed when he had been younger, a little boy, and his mother had sometimes let him join in with her. Usually to decorate cookies, or she would give him simple tasks to fulfill like arranging vegetables she had cut onto an elegant platter to lay out for guests, or even setting the place-mats and silverware at the dining room table - she was cautious enough not to let his child self handle the china.

For many years he had been content and happy to do these things, having, at that age, been very attached to this parent, and having found a sense of wonder in the chores assigned to him. Mother had designated him her little assistant, and, though she was not the type to openly lavish affection on either of her two children, and even despite his tender age, Shinobu had felt loved during these times as well as appreciated. It was a special time for the two of them, one that he didn't even have to share with his sister that often, as Risako was a teen and subsequently a young adult, away from the home most of her spare time.

Yet another thing Shinobu had picked up on was the way his father was grateful to his mother, too.

He could see it in the way that at the end of a long business dinner, the Dean would gently squeeze his wife's hand and compliment her on the dishes she had served, telling her which guests had left him praise to pass along to her. The impressionable boy that he was, he had soaked the notion in, and now that he was older he felt sure this was why he desired to do this sort of thing for Miyagi, when they got together. He saw the small things such as cooking as an avenue through which he could show his affection, and thereby please his partner by making the day easier.

One year, without a warning, these treasured mother-son activities had ceased. He must have been thirteen at the time, newly a teenager. The disruption had confused him, and he hadn't comprehended why they could no longer bake or prepare a meal together. It took a lot of his moping, a little bit of rebellion, and in the end, a sit-down-chat with his father before he discovered the reason.

Of all stupid, senseless reasons, his father had decided that he was too old to play at these sorts of things, especially because, when he was older, Shinobu wouldn't need to do them. "You'll have a nice loving wife like your mother is to me, and she will take care of you and the household," he had been informed, as if the ceremony had already been performed. "You should make school your priority for now, and perhaps start indulging in some after-school clubs to pass your time. There are so many choices out there - I'm sure you'll find your interest, son."

He remembered asking if his mom didn't want to cook with him anymore, and that notion had been dashed. "No, of course not. We just both want you to be successful, and baking, although entertaining, isn't the right fit for you."

Shinobu hadn't needed his father to stress to him at that point that it was because he was a boy. Goodness knows if Risako had a vested interest in the same discipline, they would have been delighted to let her do it to her heart's content, all because she was female. No, he received the message loud and clear.

For an extended amount of time, this had depressed and also irked him. Now that he did not have that time spent with his mother, Shinobu felt they grew apart, reverting into the traditional male-female corners in a way that caused him to want to scream because he felt they were so outdated, and good for nothing more than keeping him lonely.

If this was the case, then that meant that all he had was his father at home, and said father was rarely home. Whenever he was, he was encouraging Shinobu to do other things, so there was a lack of connection between the two. The youth had found himself wanting to spend less and less time in the house, to the point where he felt a vague kinship with his sister, finally understanding why she never chose to be around for more than the necessary stretch of obligatory visits from her university.

He had thrown himself into school, not really knowing what else he could do, but it didn't keep him happy. Shinobu had even made friends, and he couldn't lie, they _did_ help, but there was still that sensation that was something was missing.

He had excellent grades, he acquired a wide social circle, and had nothing outwardly to complain of, but there was invariably that hitch. He had no future goal, nothing driving his naturally passionate spirit to its full potential. If he truly wanted something, the young man had much to offer in the pursuit of it, but at that age, he was lacking that object, or person, or cause to fixate on.

Then, in the last dregs of his fourteenth year, he finally stumbled upon it, or rather, stumbled upon _him_.

Exams were looming then, and while possessing a considerable intelligence to begin with, Shinobu made sure to carve out a large portion of his free schedule to study.

He went to the Central Library when he did, as it was the best place for him to work where he wouldn't be bothered by anyone else, or get roped into slacking off with his classmates. The patrons came and went quiet, and often, so that most of the time he could claim a corner to himself and spread out with all of his books, grabbing each one in turn when he came up to that subject in his revisions.

At first, he supposed he noticed Miyagi, but he wasn't completely on his radar at the time.

A few weeks later, and his realization that the same man was always there at the time he visited the library, and it struck Shinobu as intriguing. He began to pay deeper attention to the older male, who, like him, seemed to be surrounded by mountains of text. Only his seemed to be more archaic, some of the novels looking worn and fragile. In the beginning of his observations, he thought whoever would bow their head amongst such ancient books must be strange.

However, the more he watched, the more his opinion changed.

Miyagi would seem so at ease in his nest of literature, blissfully shut off from the world around him that he didn't even notice Shinobu drinking him in when he walked past, headed off to his own personal corner.

Before the youth even knew it, he became infatuated.

His missing piece had been discovered, and even though, several years alter, he was still trying to obtain it, his desire had not wavered. The time was right. _Soon_.

Drifting back into reality, Shinobu sat there, lost in the center of the space where he felt like he did not belong, one hand holding up his chin into a stoic pose and lips pursed petulantly into a not-quite scowl.

The teen surveyed the milieu surrounding him and heaved a tired sigh. Still not even a word had been said.

It wasn't that he hated it, no, in fact he relished the rare moments where he felt the sense of a familial kinship. It merely irked him that all of the members of his immediate bloodline appeared so intent on pestering him and dumping all of their expectations onto him, the youngest, the only son. If they hadn't, he would have been far more tractable manners-wise than he was.

"So, Shinobu, have you made any progress with your entrance exams? Any subject pique your fancy yet?"

He fidgeted in his chair, an action that accurately exhibited a metaphor for his mood. Knowing his father wanted an answer, he managed to shake his head, 'no.'

"No luck whatsoever?"

"None." 'I've already told you this time and time again,' he added within stubbornly, the only place where he could safely accommodate his irritation.

He tightened his grip on the island surface minutely, mind in a state of division.

Shinobu was well aware that he should have made a decision by now, that doing so was jeopardizing his working future, but he just didn't know! He detested the way his parents (mainly his sire) tried to rush him, and every time they brought it up, he was so attuned that he would get angry without them even having to speak a word. The subject itself was becoming a trigger - and these days he was beginning to notice his frustration was placed more on his inactivity than their intrusions into his life.

He knew he should, but he wasn't ready. He wanted to be settled already, but hadn't gotten around to finalizing his top three choices, and would have preferred to do so on his own time, not after being reminded to. He wanted this to be all on his own initiative, as silly as it sounded. He wanted to be mature, to take care of his own business, just to show everyone that he could.

"Shinobu, you know that you're going to have to decide soon if you want to schedule your exams. Your mother and I aren't trying to force you, but that's just how the reality is. If you don't set one up now, it will be another six months before you can have at them; that's six months behind your classmates. You don't want that do, you? You've always been very bright, son, we know you can succeed at whatever it is that you choose."

He pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. There were many ways to explain why he hadn't done this, but he couldn't safely voice any of them without causing trouble.

"Shinobu-chan, you may as well give up the ghost and apply to Teito, you know you'll end up there anyway, like I did."

As riled as the youth was, he did not quite sense the inflection in his sibling's words, which, surprisingly, were not aimed in a mean way. Risako had spoken them with a sort of humdrum lilt in her speech. Unbeknownst to her brother, she had remembered being at his age, and the expectations placed upon her. In her own wry way, she was trying to make it clear for him.

Notwithstanding his position at the head of 'M' University, their father had wanted the best for her, and certainly would for Shinobu, too, now that he was of college-going age.

And, in the history of their family, most of the main bloodline had attended Teito if living in the general Tokyo metropolitan area, as it was a deeply-respected school that accepted only the cream of the crop as far as students. In comparison, Mitsuhashi's standards were a degree laxer, and other schools in the vicinity probably less so than that. Unless he was going to go outside of the 'bubble' to receive his education, she knew her brother really only had _one_ choice when it came to what their father would approve of.

"I'll apply where I want to apply, once I decide," Shinobu curtly informed her, his hackles slightly raised.

Risako's face went impassive, by principle unwilling to engage him while he was in that humor, but tempted to anyhow. From her perspective, it seemed that Shinobu had grown into a rather prickly young man, and she found herself sorely missing the little boy, that had been, at his worst, mischievous in the way that most little brothers normally were. She hadn't seen hide nor tail of that former self in the past three or four years, and for the life of her she did not understand why he had changed.

They did nothing but quarrel any more, and she felt as if she had lost him forever, but, there were times, like just a moment ago, where she had the energy to try and reel him back in, losing battle as it was. Currently though, she was too tired to quell her temper, which, was almost a perfect match to her brother's when properly provoked.

"What is keeping you, then?" she inquired, one hand sliding down to the counter where it bumped against the marble, producing a light 'smack.' "Everyone is worried, and it'd be a big relief if you would decide already. _You_ would feel much better if you locked your choices in, so why don't you?"

Their father watched them appraisingly, his gray eyes darting from one child to the next, sensing trouble in his own watchful fashion. It was all a question of when to intervene.

Sitting next to him, Shinobu rose up in his seat a little, his cheeks shaded pink.

"It may be hard to believe, but people don't always know what they want to do, immediately! If I knew what courses I wanted to take, then I would take them. However, I do not, so I refuse to go through with pointless paperwork that is not only waste of my time, but also a waste of money. Pardon me for that. I never knew you cared so much that I picked something for the sake of picking. Other people don't have that sort of luxury, so why should I abuse mine just because I do?"

Risako huffed, irritated.

"It's not abusing it; consider yourself lucky! Mother and Father are willing to support you until you find what clicks. You should be grateful, Shinobu, not floundering around _whining_ about the cost or the time it's wasting. What else do you do that you won't have time for if you spend the time to apply? You don't play sports, you don't participate in any clubs, you only go out with your friends occasionally, and you just got back from another country. I don't get it!"

"You wouldn't understand!"

"So then enlighten me!"

"No! It's none of your business!"

"That's not fair, Shinobu!"

"Neither is poking your nose into my affairs! Stop pretending that you care so much! Why don't you go play with your boyfriend, Risako, since we all know you put him first over anything or anyone else!"

"Son." The Dean's voice resonated deeply as he took advantage of the sudden, charged silence. Across the kitchen his daughter pulled back from the counter, looking shaken, a mixture of anger and shock flitting across her elegant features from the unexpected, and in many ways, off topic jibe.

Shinobu shrugged off the implied remand, standing up straight and tall, ready to leave.

"Incorrigible brat," Risako whispered to herself, turning to lean against the counter, facing away from her younger sibling.

Shinobu pointedly ignored her as well as his father and left the kitchen, stalking off towards his bedroom. He had no desire or patience remaining for any of them today, and planned to hole himself up for the remainder of the evening as much as he could.

Once far enough away, he realized not even that would give him total peace. He was on the verge of boiling over, and wanted nothing more than to work out his frustrations.

He entered his personal sanctuary a few minutes later, closing the door firmly behind him. At the very least, he felt controlled enough not to slam it. The action would have been futile, anyway. It appeared that neither of them felt compelled enough to run after him. Which is exactly what he expected.

Shinobu traipsed across his room to his desk, flipping open the laptop perched there and allowing it to suck him in.

He surfed mindlessly for an hour, in that time reading five news stories and beginning one game of solitaire. He then logged into his email. First he cleared out the junk, and once that was out of his way, the teen replied to a few messages from friends. The people he got on with were starting to filter back into town from vacations and at least his social life would pick up soon.

If he was cooped up in his house for too much longer, he'd go more than stir crazy.

The thought brought back the problems plaguing him and Shinobu sighed at their recurrence. Apparently this was going to bother him for a while yet unless he got it off his chest.

But who to tell?

Obviously he could mouth off about the school crap to any of his friends - a few of them were enduring similar harassment. The problem with that option though, was that the response he would glean would likely be along the lines of a confirmation, some words about how their parents needed to get off their backs, mentions of unfairness... rinse and repeat. Not only would it be unsatisfactory, it actually wouldn't help Shinobu at all. To be honest, the idea of such an answer ruffled his feathers more. He didn't want placation. He wanted a solution. None of his friends were the type of person to give him that.

It was times like these when he wondered if he really shouldn't have been older than he was.

He glanced toward his lit screen, pondering. After some consideration, he turned away. 'No. That wouldn't work.'

And less than a minute later, his attention returned to the computer. 'Maybe.'

Rinse and repeat.

He opened a new tab on his browser.

Rinse and repeat.

Typed in the website address for the advice site.

Repeat.

Found the correct profile.

Time to make a decision.

Shinobu gave it one last modicum of thought, and then brushed off any remaining reasons why he wasn't going to do this.

After all, wasn't this simply the perfect opportunity? He didn't know this person, whoever they were he wasn't going to meet them or see them, so he had a free route to vent without fear of repercussion. It wasn't healthy, he knew very well, to keep all of his frustrations in, and he didn't care to suffer their slow poison any more.

He was going to write it all out, and that would be that. Come what may.

The blond raised his hands, staring resolvedly at the screen as if plotting its destruction. He may have attacked the keyboard a bit mercilessly, his fingers clacking over the myriad symbols and punctuation with a unchecked energy, but he was more focused on his task than the welfare of his hardware.

He poured all of his pressing issues into the emotionally-charged disclosure, though, for posterity, he at least left out names and defining details, painting a loose picture. Just in case. He wasn't one to tempt fate, after all, he knew the over-arching sway the force had in the world.

He expounded on many a concern of his. His father's insistence on him finding a faculty and a university to attend, his anger with his sibling for treating him as if he were immature, for her behavior toward her ex-spouse, and whatever popped into his brain at the time. He needed the catharsis, and so the words came with little resistance.

In a writing-centered course, you are taught to make both a rough and a final draft. Sometimes that first attempt is edited many times over before it is able to emerge from the chrysalis, polished and ready to submit.

Shinobu, like any other student, had sat through many of these classes, as they were at the heart of any curriculum. Though, to be honest, he had always broken this rule. He was not the type, at least with schoolwork, to require all those steps. Frequently the first draft he wrote was the one that he handed in. Spelling, mechanics, flow, in the written form he had never faltered with.

It was the same here. He finished composing his message many tense minutes after beginning, and after sinking back into his desk chair, physically vegetative for a blissful period, he rose back up and pressed send without even a cursory glance over his finished product. It was over with.

Shinobu's relaxation lasted for an astounding two minutes before he sat bolt upright in his chair, realizing his glaring error.

He anxiously dug through the messaging system on the website, trying to find his sent mail to read it. Though he already knew it wouldn't be pretty.

Upon locating the missive, he looked it over, flinching a little as he guessed at how it would sound to someone who didn't know him. He sounded furious, and though he did not regret his feelings, or in principle, talking about them, he did think now that perhaps expressing them in this way, in that tone, was wrong.

The notion caused the teen to become skittish, and he did not check for a reply for the rest of the day.

Instead he headed outside and lurked around the grounds of the estate, finding small things to amuse him while the hours passed, as he was wont to do when he was younger and had no plans. He even managed to convince himself that it did not matter - it wasn't as if he knew this person, or had to see them after spilling his guts, so there was no face to be saved. It was fine. He had gotten what he wanted out of the exchange - an outlet. That was as far as it needed to go, and he didn't care if the advisor wrote back or not.

Somehow, this mature train of thought was not present when he tentatively logged into his email late in the evening and found one solitary message burned into his gaze.

At first he did not dare to click on it. What if he was about to be reprimanded for his torrent of words? If that was the case, he'd rather delete it and get on with his life.

On the other hand, what if it wasn't a scolding he would receive? What if it was something good? He would never know if he didn't chance it.

He decided on a compromise. A quick scan, a peek, nothing more. If everything appeared pleasant he would finish it. If not, he would jump all over the delete option. Whatever his eye could read in a second or two shouldn't be enough to scar him.

He opened the email.

**********Yoghyimai**: 'To begin with, everything will be fine. The truth is, there are many types of people in this world - and you won't get along with all of them. That's not possible. Even if they are your kin, that guarantees nothing other than you share the same blood line. Sometimes you have to take your 'family' where you get it, but... that also doesn't mean you have to be directly disrespectful. I can tell you right now that will accomplish little, and cause more trouble than it's worth.

It's better to take the higher road and set yourself on a noble course than to sink down and have it out with those sorts of people. Separate yourself if you must from them, take breaks. You are presumably entering university soon, so that will keep you busy. Everything will all work itself out. Sometimes distance can be the best cure for a rocky dynamic. I wouldn't let it cause you undue stress. Just focus on your own matters for now.

As for the rest of what you spoke about, I can't tell you what is the right path academically.'

Upon reading that statement, Shinobu quirked a brow. 'Isn't that what the site is for...?' he wondered, but just as fleetingly he dismissed the thought, preferring to read on.

Thus far he was nodding at most of what he took in. The directions all seemed logical, and he appreciated the obvious amount of care the professor had put into the response. Combined with the fact that his initial message had been less than articulate, and more than a little abrasive sounding, he was floored to receive a reply such as this.

For a second time now, he was glad to have stumbled onto the site, and more specifically, onto this advisor. It felt inordinately fulfilling just to have someone to listen, but then also to analyze his messes and set him on the path to correct them? Shinobu was disarmed by the niceness of it, but more than that, he was happy.

**********Yoghyimai**: 'But my advice is - think about the little things that you do right now that you enjoy. Hobbies, passions, etcetera. Are there careers that can come out of them? If you aren't looking to learn simply for love of learning, thinking about it in terms of a career path can be helpful.

If you expect a certain sort of lifestyle, then you'll want to view jobs that earn a high salary and go from there. If you want to travel, or stay in one place, consider jobs that would go one way or the other, depending on your preference. Narrow it down by if you could see yourself working at that for a long time, preferably until retirement age. It may be hard to visualize all at once, so keeping a short list is good. From there, pick out the majors that would cover most, if not all of your choices, and you'll know what exams to take. From there, it's all hard work and studying.'

Shinobu took a deep breath, smiling mildly as he re-read the last few lines. Already he was making those considerations, and it was starting to come together for him, cognitively. As if to convince himself, images of certain jobs he would strike out at flitted to mind, and he made a mental note to ignore them in his search.

His hands went back to work, drafting a thank-you message. This time he moved more slowly, attempting to craft it in the best way possible - respectful and controlled as far as his word choice and also his tone. The youth bent over the keyboard, this time the pace was more rhythmic, with frequent pauses as he savored the sentences he had just written, weighing them to see if they sounded how he wanted them to sound. Each individual button was pressured lightly in comparison to the first missive's drafting, where they had been savaged by angry fingers. Shinobu was careful this round.

Time slipped busily past, the numbers on his clock going unnoticed until Shinobu peeked up at them, wanting to know what hour it was now that he was finished. Assessing it, he shrugged to himself and turned back to the screen, giving the message one more read-through.

He drummed his fingers on his desk, thoughtful, before deciding upon and making a last minute addendum.

**Shininja:** 'I'll tell you what I come up with, okay?'

It seemed only fair, and secretly, he would feel a bit better about his process if he could receive some feedback.

The night was slowly dwindling away, being far past a normal bedtime, but for the teen it was more or less standard. He figured that he'd leave the brainstorming off until tomorrow and go to sleep for the time being. Now that he had an outline of how to think about it, he felt vitalized, as if seeing everything from a new perspective.

The kicker to him was that none of what the professor had suggested was complicated. Like the first time, when he'd advised him about how to talk to Ryuu, this other person seemed to have a talent for breaking down situations, that for whatever reason, stumped Shinobu, and made them clear and approachable to resolve. How was he able to do that? Was it just age and experience? Most professors were older, after all. Shinobu didn't know about this particular one, but he/she had to be.

His mind resisted that designation a little. He was more or less certain it was a guy, by the way he wrote. Not that it mattered, but in a way, Shinobu was starting to want to have a better picture of who he was talking to. As convenient as the service had been thus far, it felt strange to tell a no-name person his troubles. There was the old adage that talking to strangers was simpler than talking to people you know, but Shinobu didn't feel that way. Was it wrong that he was curious?

He was not sure yet, but the desire lingered nonetheless.

After shutting down his laptop and tearing off his clothes from the day, Shinobu trundled off to bed, his mind whirring a thousand miles a minute as he tried to catch some rest.

-.

* * *

.-**  
**

**A/N:** I am honestly not sure where all the exposition about Shinobu and his mother's relationship came from, or why, but I got the inspiration to write it, and it flowed, and before I knew it, I was attached. My original outline had none of that in it. I'm pleased with how it came out, though. Risako's failure with the pasta is from an anecdote. My friend tried to cook us alfredo and the noodles were, sadly, not that edible. And! I actually don't hate Risako. I sort of like her, but that's hard to write when I'm working off of you-know-who's perspective. :0

Ahem. *clears throat* I will hop off the soapbox to say that I hope you're still enjoying the story!


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